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Agnes Sorel

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<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> We must now once more follow the course of Jean Charost. It has been said that when the gates of the house of Madame De Giac (by a contrivance very common at that time in Paris for saving the trouble of the porter and the time of the visitor, but with which he was unacquainted) rolled back on their hinges, without the visible intervention of any human being, he saw several persons running up the street in the direction which he himself intended to take. Man has usually a propensity to hurry in the same course as others, and, springing on his horse's back, Jean Charost spurred on somewhat more quickly than he might have done had he seen no one running. As he advanced, he saw, in the direction of the Porte Barbette, a lurid glare beginning to rise above the houses, and glimmering upon large rolling volumes of heavy smoke The next instant, loud voices, shouting, reached his ear; but with the cries of fire he fancied there were mingled cries of murder. On up the street he dashed, and soon found himself at the corner of the Street of the Old Temple; but he could make nothing of the scene before his eyes. The house in front was on fire in various places, and would evidently soon be totally destroyed; but though there were a number of people in the street, running hither and thither in wild disorder, few stopped before the burning building even for a single moment, and most hurried past at once to a spot somewhat further down the street. All who had collected as yet were on foot though he could see a horse further up toward the city gate; but while he was looking round him with some wonder, and hesitating whether he should first go on to inquire what was the matter where the principal crowd was collected, or ride at once to the Hôtel Barbette, a man in the royal liveries, with a halbert in his hand, crossed and looked hard at him. Suddenly another came running up the street, completely armed except the head, which was bare. The man with the halbert instantly stopped the other, apparently asking some question, and Jean Charost saw the armed man point toward him, exclaiming, "He must be one of them--he must be one of them." The next moment they both seized his bridle together; but they did not both retain their hold very long; for while he of the halbert demanded his name and business there, threatening to knock his brains out if he did not answer instantly, the armed man slipped by on the other side of the horse, turned round the corner of the street, and was lost to sight. Jean Charost's name and business were soon explained; but still the man kept hold of his bridle. Two or three persons gathered round; and all apparently conceded that a great feat had been accomplished in making a prisoner, although there was no suspicious circumstance about him, except his being mounted on horseback, when all the rest were on foot. They continued to discuss what was to be done with him, till a large body of people came rushing down from the Hôtel Barbette, among whom the young secretary recognized one of the squires and two of the lackeys of the Duke of Orleans. To them Jean Charost instantly called, saying, "There is something amiss here. Pray explain to these men who I am; for they are stopping me without cause, and I can not proceed to join his highness." "Why did you leave him so suddenly an hour ago?" cried the young squire, in a sharp tone. "You came with us from the Hôtel d'Orleans, and disappeared on the way. You had better keep him, my friends, till this bloody deed is inquired into." Then turning to Jean Charost again, he added, "Do you not know that the duke has been foully murdered?" The intelligence fell upon the young man's ear like thunder. He sat motionless and speechless on his horse, while the party from the Hôtel Barbette passed on; and he only woke from the state of stupefaction into which he was cast, to find his horse being led by two or three persons through the dark and narrow streets of Paris, whither he knew not. His first distinct thoughts, however, were of the duke rather than himself, and he inquired eagerly of his captors where and how the horrible deed had been perpetrated. They were wise people, and exceedingly sapient in their own conceit, however. The queen's servant laughed with a sneer, saying, "No, no. We won't tell you any thing to prepare you for your examination before the prévôt. He will ask you questions, and then you answer him, otherwise he will find means to make you. We are not here to reply to your interrogatories." The sapient functionary listened to no remonstrances, and finding his efforts vain, Jean Charost rode on in silence, sometimes tempted, indeed, to draw his sword, which had not yet been taken from him, and run the man with the halbert through the body; but he resisted the temptation. At length, emerging from a narrow street, they came into a little square, on the opposite side of which rose a tall and gloomy building, without any windows apparent on the outside, except in the upper stories of two large towers, flanking a low dark archway. All was still and silent in the square; no light shone from the windows of that gloomy building; but straight toward the great gate they went, and one of the men rang a bell which hung against the tower. A loud, ferocious barking of dogs was immediately heard; but in an instant the gates were opened by a broad-shouldered, bow-legged man, who looked gloomily at the visitors, but said nothing; and the horse of Jean Charost was led in, while the porter drove back four savage dogs (which would fain have sprang at the prisoner); and instantly closed the gates. The archway in which the party now stood extended some thirty feet through the heavy walls, and at the other end appeared a second gate, exactly like the first; but the porter made no movement to open it, nor asked any questions, but suffered the queen's servant to go forward and ring another bell. That gate was opened, but not so speedily as the other, and a man holding a lantern appeared behind, with another personage at his side, dressed in a striped habit of various colors, which made Jean Charost almost believe that they had a buffoon even there. From the first words of the queen's servant, however, he learned that this was the jailer, and his face itself, hard, stern, and bitter, was almost an announcement of his office. Nevertheless, he made some difficulty at first in regard to receiving a prisoner from hands unauthorized; but at length he consented to detain the young secretary till he could be interrogated by the prévôt. The captors then retired, and the jailers made their captive dismount and enter a small room near, where sat a man in black, writing. His name, his station, his occupation was immediately taken down, and then one of those harpies called the valets de geôle; was called, who instantly commenced emptying his pockets of all they contained, took from him his sword, dagger, and belt, and even laid hands upon a small jeweled fermail, or clasp; upon his hood. The young man offered no resistance, of course; but when he found himself stripped of money, and every thing valuable, he was surprised to hear a demand made upon him for ten livres. "This is a most extraordinary charge," he said, looking in the face of the jailer, who stood by, though it was the valet who made the demand. "Why so, boy?" asked the man, gruffly. "It is the jailage due. You said your name was Jean Charost, Baron De Brecy. A baron pays the same as a count or a countess." "But how can I pay any thing, when you have taken every thing from me?" asked the young secretary. "Oh, you are mistaken," said the jailer, with a rude laugh. "I see you are a young bird. All that has been taken from you, except the fees of the jail, will be restored when you go out, if you ever do. But you must consent with your own tongue to my taking the money for my due, otherwise we shall put you to sleep in the ditch, where you pay half fees, and I take them without asking." "Take it, take it," said Jean Charost, with a feeling of horror and dismay that made him feel faint and sick. "Treat me as well as you can, and take all that is your right. If more be needed, you can have it." The jailer nodded his head to the valet, who grinned at the prisoner, saying, "We will treat you very well, depend upon it. You shall have a clean cell, with a bed four feet wide, and only two other gentlemen in it, both of them of good birth, though one is in for killing a young market-woman. He will have his head off in three days, and then you will have only one companion." "Can not I be alone?" asked Jean Charost. "The law is, three prisoners to one bed," replied the valet of the jail, "and we can't change the custom--unless you choose to pay"--he added--"four deniers a night for a single bed, and two for the place on which it stands." "Willingly, willingly," cried the young man, who now saw that money would do much in a jail, as well as elsewhere. "Can I have a cell to myself?" "To be sure. There is plenty of room," replied the jailer. "If you choose to pay the dues for two other barons, you can have the space they would occupy." Jean Charost consented to every thing that was demanded; the fees were taken by the jailer; the rest of the money found upon him was registered by the man in black, who seemed a mere automaton; and then he was led away by the valet of the jail to a small room not very far distant. On the way, and for a minute or two after his arrival in the cell, the valet continued to give him rapid but clear information concerning the habits and rules of the place. He found that, if he attempted to escape, the law would hold him guilty of whatever crime he was charged with; that he could neither have writing materials, nor communicate with any friend without an application to one of the judges at the Châtelet; that all the law allowed a prisoner was bread and water, and, in the end, that every thing could be procured by money--except liberty. Jean Charost hesitated not then to demand all he required, and the valet, on returning to the jailer, after having thrice-locked and thrice-bolted the door, informed his master that the young prisoner was a "good orange," which probably meant that he was easily sucked. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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